The Irishman immediately regretted inviting Mark over to his house when he stepped inside his room.
Mark was observing each and every manifested piece of art Jack had. Even his wall art and the canvas that had a drying rose design.
It was obvious he'd heavily referenced Mark's tattoo.
"Did you... Make all of these?"
Jack nodded shyly.
"Is this from memory? It's my tattoo," Mark commented, still staring at the very colorful version of his ink picture Jack painted. His eyes reverted to his arm to the canvas, comparing them.
Again, Jack nodded after swallowing the lump in his throat.
Mark just turned away and looked at the field of sunflowers he had sketched in charcoal on his wall.
Oh God, now Mark thinks he's weird.
He'll go away, just like Robin did.
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Friend-Zoned
Fanfiction"So... Wanna skip Gym and make out in the janitor's closet or something?" •°•°•°•°• "We can't tell my dad this, y'know. If he knew I was gay as hell, he'd make sure he gave me hell." •°•°•°•°• "What? No way. We're just friends. That Irish loser can...
